<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>hands that heal by n33ks</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289776">hands that heal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/n33ks/pseuds/n33ks'>n33ks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Fluff and Humor, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Humor, Injury, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Time Skip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:29:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/n33ks/pseuds/n33ks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakusa somehow sprains his wrist during practice. Atsumu is the first to notice something is wrong and offers to help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bokuto Koutarou &amp; Hinata Shouyou &amp; Miya Atsumu &amp; Sakusa Kiyoomi, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu &amp; Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>549</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hands that heal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was originally for sakuatsu week and this was a mix of the first two days but i never really continued bc i didnt have the energy and i only found out it was sakuatsu week the day it started so shit asldfja. i was gonna add more to this but also i dont really have the energy for that. besides i have like. 3 other hq fics in the works teehee</p><p>anyway i hope u like this!! i hope theyre not too ooc ^^'</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Omi-kun!”</p><p>Sakusa makes the run up, sucking in air through his lips before making his jump, like he usually does, and slamming the ball down across the court, close to the edge but within the line. </p><p><em> BA-BOOM! </em>Like he usually does.</p><p>But what usually doesn’t happen is the shoot of pain through his forearm and down to his wrist. </p><p>His breath hitched at the impact and his landing back onto the hardwood was awkward. </p><p>Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone with a court full of his teammates and staff on the sideline.</p><p>“Omi-kun?” He startled at the voice, dropping his hand to his side inconspicuously, and turning to its owner, none other than the ever assuming man, Atsumu Miya. “Are you alright?”</p><p>This attracted everyone’s attention. Not everyone saw Sakusa falter, but a few did, and with that question, now everyone did. Everyone would be concerned about a teammate’s lamentable condition, and no one wanted someone on the court if they were. Be it, whether they’re concerned for him or simply don’t want an undependable player on their court. </p><p>“Fine,” he simply spat through barred teeth. It wasn’t. It felt like a bad cramp more than anything, he really hoped it wouldn’t be more than that. </p><p>He felt slightly disappointed in himself as he always made a point to himself to stretch his wrists thoroughly. Did he not stretch enough? Or was this something more than just a cramp? The anxiety started to swirl in his mind.</p><p>
  <em> Clap! Clap! </em>
</p><p>“Five minute break, everyone!” Their coach yelled from the side. After addressing the team, his gaze landed on Sakusa pointedly. </p><p>He glanced back at Atsumu, who met his gaze with a look of unnatural concern. </p><p>Humiliation and annoyance spread hot throughout his chest as he turned and made his way over to the sidelines.</p><p>He sat down on the bench and hesitantly gave his coach his hand, which he prodded around Sakusa’s right hand and wrist gently. Sakusa leaned as far away from him as was respectably possible, hissing and clenching his teeth every time the pain spiked.</p><p>The coach’s eyebrows furrowed, which only increased his anxiety.</p><p>“Looks like a sprain,” And his life was over. “But a minor one.” The coach looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Sakusa-kun, but you’re going to have to sit out for the rest of practice and tomorrow’s practice. Hopefully after tomorrow, your wrist will be as good as new. Just take good care of it and don’t you dare strain it even more.” The coach held his gaze, strong, serious, and almost menacing. It was hard to look away, even though he wanted to. </p><p>“Yes, coach,” Sakusa responded quietly, nodding slightly. </p><p>In a split second, his face softened. “Don’t overthink it, kid,” He stood up. <em> I’m not a kid anymore</em>, Sakusa thought to himself bitterly. “It’s going to be fine. Just a couple day’s rest. Keep yourself fit within those couple days, though. Get that wrist taped up, and we have a splint in the first aid kit you can use. Then cool down,” he gave him a harsh pat on the back. </p><p>“Are you sure I can’t join in afterwards?” Sakusa found himself asking, bringing his hand to his chest. </p><p>The coach let out a loud laugh, which startled him and attracted the look of several teammates. “Yeah, I could let you! But only if I were dumb. It’s only minor, sure, but if you work it more, it’s probably not going to be minor, and then you’re going to have to sit out more,” his coach met his eyes once more. “You’re not going to lose your spot, Sakusa-kun, if that’s what you’re worried about. You have a solid position on this team, I can assure you of that. Now get moving.” This time he grabbed his shoulder and made him turn the other direction, where the first aid kit lay at the opposite side of the bench; also where a majority of his teammates hung out and nursed their water bottles. </p><p>He sighed, not protesting any further, and with that, began his walk of shame. </p><p>“You alright, man?” </p><p>“What happened?” </p><p>“Are you going to be okay, Omi-kun?”</p><p>When Sakusa finally got to sit down, he glared up at his teammates. Bokuto, Hinata and a few others surrounded him. The rest just watched from a safe distance. </p><p>“Is it bad?” Hinata crouched down with a water bottle in hand. If he was concerned, he didn’t show it. Just plain curiosity, and his face was oddly… bright. That’s one of the things he appreciated about Hinata; he never looked at anyone with pity, especially now (and especially after what happened <em> then</em>).</p><p>“It’s fine,” he mumbled, heaving the med kit onto the bench next to him, to his right. “I can’t play for a couple days.” If he gave them the answers they wanted, maybe they would go away quicker.</p><p>Wrong.</p><p>“It’s not going to be longer than that, right? It’s not going to be permanent? <em> Right? </em>”</p><p>“<em>OMI-KUN’S GONNA DIE! </em>”</p><p>And the moment of panic went on, exchanged mainly between Bokuto and Hinata. He took back what he thought about Hinata, he was just as bad as everyone else.</p><p>Right as Sakusa was about to yell at them, someone else did.</p><p>“<em>SHUT UP! </em>”</p><p>The two stopped, and the team silenced all together. </p><p>All the attention was Atsumu now. He didn’t seem bothered by it, though, that was what he lived for anyway.</p><p>“Give him some space. He doesn’t need yer sweaty faces and scummy breaths all up in his bubble, he’s goin’ through a hard time right now,” he said before turning to Sakusa, lowering his voice. “Are you okay, like-”</p><p>“Don’t be a hypocrite, Atsumu. Leave me alone,” he grimaced, barely sparing him a glance, before shuffling through the box, taking out what he needs.</p><p>There were chuckles shared between the team.</p><p>“I’m not being a hypocrite. We’re best friends!” He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. </p><p>Aaand he was being serious. He wasn’t just defending himself. </p><p>“We’re literally not.” He mumbled, only for Atsumu to hear. </p><p>There was no reply as he began to disinfect his wrist, the liquid cool on his skin. As he held a non-stick pad in place, he tried to retrieve a roll of an elastic bandage from the box but it only fell from his shaky finger tips.</p><p>He wasn’t the best at using his left hand.</p><p>He proceeded to reach down and recollect it, but before he could do that, another hand was already there and picked it up. </p><p>He felt himself tense up in agitation, his stomach boiling in annoyance. He already knew the culprit of his stolen bandages before he even looked up. “<em>Miya- </em>”</p><p>Suddenly, Sakusa’s hand was gently held in the other man’s as he began to quickly and carefully wrap the bandage around his wrist and palm.</p><p>Sakusa only sat there, stunned. The most pretentious person he knew,<em> the </em> Atsumu Miya, was being oh so gentle and genuine. He also took Sakusa’s hand with his own grubby mits.</p><p>“<em>What are you doing? </em>” He seethed. It took everything in him to tear his hand away from his, but the fear of injuring himself more somehow stopped him.</p><p>“Helpin’ you?” Atsumu responded and shrugged as if it was obvious. Well, it was obvious. But Sakusa didn’t need his help. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again, his cheeks beginning to redden.</p><p>“What?” Sakusa glared down on him. </p><p>He felt Atsumu startle, pausing in his movements and pulling on his hand just a tad. A moment later, he resumed. “Nothin’,” a smile returned to his face. He looked almost smug. “Yer lettin’ me hold yer hand.” He giggled. This man had the audacity to giggle at this so-called ‘accomplishment’.</p><p>“And you have really nice hands, like-”</p><p>“Okay, that’s enough. Get away from me, creep.” Sakusa slipped his hand away from Atsumu’s before shoving him away.</p><p>“Let a setter admire some nice hands, Omi Omi-kun!” Atsumu protested as he regained his balance. </p><p>“Never call me that again.” This was about the thousandth time he’s told him, and his other teammates, not to. It’s growing on him slightly, but he’d never tell them that.</p><p>
  <em> FWEEE! </em>
</p><p>“Feel better, Omi-kun!”</p><p>“PLEASE DON’T DIE!”</p><p>“I’M GOING TO MISS YOU SO MUCH!”</p><p><em> We live together, unfortunately</em>, the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Hinata was already back on court.</p><p>He almost screamed when there was a heavy pat on his shoulder. </p><p>“Don’t strain yourself, Omi Omi-kun~ I need my outside hitter back pronto!” </p><p>Within that five minute break, he already felt more physically, mentally, emotionally and socially drained than any all day practice he’s ever experienced. </p><p>“I didn’t need your help,” he mumbled grimly to himself, finishing up the wrap.</p><p><em>He has soft hands. </em>He decided. He chanced a glance back up towards the court, unable to look away from Atsumu. He caught Sakusa’s gaze and waved. Sakusa only sneered and turned away to work his hand into the splint (which he would need to wash once he got back to the dorms). </p><p><em> And dimples. He has dimples. </em>He thought to himself and only himself.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>